


it was only a kiss

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, No Spoilers, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: it started with a kiss, how did it end up like this?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> are the title and summary both references to Mr. Brightside by The Killers? yes. is the fic based off of the song? for once, no.  
i was inspired by [this](https://mobile.twitter.com/i/web/status/1165260903509422081) piece of art  
i normally don't post multi chapter fics until all chapters are finished, but i'm TAKING A CHANCE

"Mercedes . . ."

"I'm almost done! Quit fussing, Ingrid."

There was a huff, followed by an almost silent "fine." She had been avoiding the horrors of makeup for the entire week, even going as far as asking Raphael to bring her food to avoid the risk. Unfortunately for her, completely dodging Mercedes wasn't an option, as the priestess had snatched her away the moment class was over. Ingrid had silently pleaded with Byleth, but the professor must've enjoyed watching his students get tortured.

In actuality, the experience wasn't terrible, just tedious. And oh so time consuming. She could be training, but instead, she was having powder foundation dabbed onto her face. She wasn't even sure how long it had been since they started, and she was growing impatient. Had it not been for her close friendship with Mercedes, she would've snapped and left. That's when she heard the gentle voice say "Done!" and she hopped from her chair, shaking the jitters away.

"What do you think?" Mercedes asked, presenting the bedroom mirror to Ingrid. Leaning in, she examined the work, noticing she barely looked any different. Truly a waste of time. Sighing, she looked at Mercedes, who was tapping her chin, as if she had forgotten something. "Can I go now?" Ingrid pleaded, ready to escape to the training grounds. Mercedes perked up, and Ingrid winced, knowing that there was no chance of getting out so easily.

"I forgot the lipstick!"

Oh no. Not lipstick. Closing her eyes and mentally preparing herself, the knight mumbled, "Just get it over with." She waited. And waited. And waited. What was Mercedes waiting for? That was when Ingrid felt something against her lips, but it definitely wasn't the cold sensation of lipstick. It was warm and soft, with the faint feeling of something slick. Taking a peek, Ingrid was met with Mercedes' face, and realised what was happening.

Instinct made her pull back, reaching up for her lips. She was still trying to get a grasp on the situation, fingertips grazing the glaze. Meanwhile, Mercedes had stepped back, still smiling. Although, there was something about her smile that Ingrid wasn't convinced by. "I'm sorry," she said, sounding rather sheepish. "You just looked so . . . well, I couldn't help myself." 

"I-It's no problem!" Ingrid blurted out, the hand once on her lips now reaching out. Mercedes looked just as surprised as she felt, and she retracted her hand, looking away. "It was only a kiss . . ." Indeed, it was nothing more. A friendship kiss! Was that a thing? Ingrid wasn't sure.

It wasn't her first, surprisingly. Glenn had given her a few pecks on the kiss, just as Mercedes had. While he had romantic intent, Mercedes didn't. It didn't seem that way. Surely it wasn't. Looking up, Mercedes was still smiling. It was actually unnerving. "I see," Mercedes replied. Stepping past Ingrid, she reached for the door, stopping for a moment. "I'll see you at the ball, right?" 

That's right. They were here in the first place because of the ball. Even though Mercedes couldn't see her, Ingrid nodded, following up with, "Yeah. I'll definitely be there. Save a dance for me?"

Mercedes laugh was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. "Of course I will." And then she was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda rushed this one oop  
but i do intend on making the last chapter the best   
so please stay tuned

Ever since the very first time Ingrid took step upon the dancefloor, she felt out of place. It wasn’t that she was bad at it — actually, far from it. Despite her lack of confidence, when she did put in an effort, it was a spectacle to behold. No, it was the atmosphere that the dancefloor held. Raw, pure emotion said not through words, but through actions. Words needn’t be exchanged, just a simple twirl and look in one’s eyes told a hundred stories.

Being so exposed only brought discomfort to the knight. She didn’t need to be on the battlefield to feel a need to protect herself. It felt as though dancing would only bring her an emotional burden she didn’t wish to carry, not on a night where everyone was enjoying themselves. So instead of inviting anyone or accepting any offers to dance the night away, she merely watched from her comfortable place against the wall.

She was sure she was safe until she saw Sylvain approaching, trying not to look like she was panicking. From the grin on his face and the way he wasn’t being tackled by every foolish girl in the room, she was sure he was going to ask for a dance. He, of all people, should’ve recognised how she was intentionally avoiding the others, but maybe that was his aim. Womanizer Sylvain breaks down the walls surrounding stubborn Ingrid and steals her heart with a dance. Oh Goddess, she could hear the rumours already.

By the time he was standing before her, her moment to escape slipped out of grasp, and she took a deep breath, ready for all eyes to be upon them. Of course she didn’t wish to make a scene, but saying “yes” would attract the attention of curious onlookers and saying “no” would result in Sylvain’s unappreciated teasing, which was even worse. Surely, he knew this, and yet he was opening his mouth, the action alone feeling condescending. That’s when the Goddess, at long last, sent a blessing.

Mercedes had stepped in between the small space that separated Sylvain and Ingrid, smiling as brightly as she had been earlier that day. “Oh, Ingrid!” She exclaimed, “I’ve been looking all over for you. Would you care to dance?” From behind, Sylvain was visibly taken aback by this, but didn’t appear upset. With a chance to get away, Ingrid feigned a smile, replying, “I would be happy to, Mercedes. Shall we?” Holding out her hand, she waited until Mercedes took it, then lead them into the crowd of dancing students.

While she had taken the initiative, Ingrid wasn’t fit for the leading role, and allowed Mercedes to take over as soon as their fingers were intertwining. Just because she was experienced in the arts of waltzing doesn’t meant she was an interchangeable master, only having learned how to follow the lead. Each step was taken with extreme care, focusing on shifting their weight properly and moving past the other students with grace. Their faces weren’t dangerously close, but enough so that they could talk without others being able to eavesdrop.

“Thanks for saving me that dance," Mercedes whispered. Ingrid finally returned the smile, shaking her head and saying, "No, thank you for saving me from that."

"Whatever do you mean?" 

Playing innocent for her sake, eh? Well, of Mercedes insisted, Ingrid wouldn't push. She then felt the grip on her hand tightening, and noticed Mercedes faltering expression. Still smiling, but she looked uncomfortable. It pained Ingrid's heart to see her friend that way, and she leaned in closer. "I'm sorry about . . . earlier," she mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact. Although, out of her peripheral vision, she saw Mercedes shaking her head.

"I was the one at fault,” she insisted, “and as you said, it was only a kiss.”

“Right . . . only a kiss.”

They were her own words, but for whatever reason, they stung. Before she knew it, the song was reaching its end, and Mercedes was slipping away, saying goodbyes that could barely be heard. Being alone in the crowd of dancing bodies caused her to feel naked, and she returned to her place on the wall, letting her eyes fall to the ground. As long as Sylvain didn’t try anything, she was sure she could survive the night.

“Oh, Ingrid!~”

Or Dorothea. But she was too late for that one, and had a feeling that Mercedes was either gone by now or too caught up in dancing to save her once again. Taking a deep breath, she put on her best smile, turning to the songstress. “Hello, Dorothea. Wouldn’t you rather be dancing rather than standing over by me?”   


“Don’t put it that way, my dear Ingrid. You make it seem as though I don’t enjoy your company.”

The laugh that left Ingrid sounded far too nervous, and she could only hope that Dorothea hadn’t noticed. If she had, she said nothing of it. Her bright smile thinned into a line, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Wh-What is it?” Ingrid asked, wondering if she had made Dorothea worried. Dorothea let out a long hum, making Ingrid’s stomach do flips, only to nod and her smile return.

“Let’s go to the Goddess Tower!”

-

“Dorothea, I don’t think —”

“Oh, come on, Ingrid! Look, there’s no guards around. No one is going to catch us!”

The night of the ball was the one night that the Goddess Tower wasn’t heavily guarded. As much as she hated to admit it, it truly did seem like the staff was encouraging others to go. It was a once in a lifetime chance, she supposed. They passed through the opening without so much as a whisper, and escalated the stairs in silence.

Ingrid was curious as to whether Dorothea viewed her in such light, or if they were merely going for the sake of it. It was hard to tell, since the songstress flirted with everyone around and kept sending Ingrid confusing messages. They were approaching the top of the stairs, and suddenly, Dorothea stopped, Ingrid barely noticing in time to stop without making impact. She quirked an eyebrow, and Dorothea turned around, giving her best innocent face.

“I just remembered that I promised Edelgard a dance! The night is still young, but it might be over before we know it.” She was obviously making a last second excuse. But why would she? “You go on without me, dear Ingrid. Who knows, maybe you’ll run into your destined one!” Before Ingrid could retaliate, Dorothea was rushing down the stairs, and she swore she could hear the other trip at one point. 

She took those last few steps to reach the top, only for Mercedes to come into view. There was no one else around, just the priestess, alone. Was that why Dorothea decided to up and leave? Did she have mood reading radars? Or would it seem odd if all three of them were there together? Whatever it was, it was just the two of them, Mercedes staring into the distance while Ingrid stood there, silent.

Mercedes must have noticed them, considering how loud footsteps echoed out in such a hollow spiral and they weren’t exactly whispering a moment ago. Yet, she said nothing. Perhaps she was waiting for Ingrid to speak first. Perhaps she didn’t want to speak at all. Ingrid stepped forward, taking her place beside Mercedes and looking into the dark of the night, only the stars illuminating the sky.

Neither said a word. The silence was somewhat comforting, but felt suffocating as well. Her throat felt rather dry, and she couldn’t manage to part her lips and just say something. Anything. Would it make a difference? She wasn’t sure. Fortunately, Mercedes decided to take charge, as she always did. 

“Five years,” she said, her voice echoing. “Do you think we’ll all really come back in five years?”

Would they? The future wasn’t set in stone. She didn’t know. No one did. “Even if we don’t,” she started, “we can always come back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just the two of us. We can come back here, to the Goddess Tower. Even if it’s only us, I wouldn’t mind.”

Mercedes went silent. Ingrid held her breath, wondering if her suggestion was out of line. But Mercedes started to giggle, making her flustered. Maybe it wasn’t out of line, just downright foolish. Before the knight could defend her pride and request the idea be forgotten, Mercedes spoke up. “I would like that.” She then took one of Ingrid’s hands in both of hers, holding it to her chest.

“In five years, no matter what we’re doing or who we’ve become, let’s come back.”

“Just the two of us.”

The words felt selfish, but Ingrid didn’t care. Her heart fluttered, and she swore to herself — swore to Goddess — that she would come back in five years, no matter what.

No matter how much blood was on her hands, or how many bodies piled behind her for a single cause, she would come back.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't proofread. i don't even know what proofreading is.


End file.
